


All The Small Things - ABANDONED

by Sh1k4r1



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-04-24 18:56:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh1k4r1/pseuds/Sh1k4r1
Summary: With Niflheim invading Tenebrae a few months earlier in this timeline, Prince Noctis neither had the chance to meet Lunafreya nor the Oracle's powers healed his wounds after the Marilith attack.So when you meet him on your first day at University he is a shy eighteen years old sitting in a wheelchair.ABANDONEDPlease see chapter 7 for explanations.





	1. The Royal University of Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like A Chocobo Feather](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876225) by [Sh1k4r1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh1k4r1/pseuds/Sh1k4r1). 



> One thing I always appreciated about FFXV is that Noctis struggles with physicas impairment, and it is 100% canon, making all of us who also have to deal with similar stuff feel less alone.
> 
> Exploring further the concept, I wondered how Noctis's life would turn out to be if he never got the chance to get healed by the Oracle. So now you have it, the tale of the wheelchair bound Prince!
> 
> ~~This isn't meant to be sad anyway, our boy is strong so he can live fully even if he cannot walk~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** nothing bad happens in this chapter!

**The Royal University of Insomnia** , usually abbreviated as UInsomnia, is the Kingdom's most prestigious university. Located at the core of the economical district, just a couple of miles away from the Citadel, the main campus is settled in a thirty-storeys glass building whose sleek design can compete with that of the Corporation owned skyscrapers nearby. Despite the neighbourhood being impeccably connected by public transport with ten different underground lines servicing the area, a polished black luxurious car approaches the building, parking right in front of the entrance. A tall and slender young man wearing an exquisite black suit leaves the driver's seat, making his way around the car towards the back passenger seats after retrieving some gear from the trunk. The man's gloved hand gracefully opens the door, helping a boy not yet in his twenties out. The teenager is not nearly as spotless as his retainer, his pitch black hair kept untidy with bangs cut long enough to fall on his midnight blue eyes. Still, his features are boyish and pretty under the hair covering them, only a hint of sadness blemishing the softness of his lips.

"It's okay, Iggy." The boy snaps lightly, escaping the tender grip of the man helping him stand as he lets himself drop on a wheelchair. He whispers a sigh as he sits, more out of bother than relief.

"Are you sure, your Highness?" Asks the elegant man, his voice betraying a slight concern.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. See you later." Cuts short the teenager, hastily turning his wheelchair around and steering himself towards the building. He waits at the entrance until the car turns the corner disappearing from his sight, then he retrieves a packet of cigarettes from his jacket. Coeurl Blue, his favourite brand. His lips turn upwards in a mischievous smile as he takes a deep drag. He is eighteen years old, meaning he can legally smoke if he wants to, no matter how contrary his retainer is. Of course, it feels a bit childish to keep hiding this nasty habit of his, but Ignis would really throw a fit if he knew. Anyway he deserves some little joy in life, right? And now since he has to face his first day at university he legitimately needs a treat, something to help him relax a bit.

Being the Crown Prince of Lucis isn't an easy task, people always expecting him to be flawless. But he lost his chance to be the perfect prince charming ten years ago, the day he lost the use of his legs. He heavily breathes out a cloud of smoke as he stares at his limp legs, a matte black knee brace wrapped around his left knee over his jeans. He's glad he didn't listen to Ignis's advice to wear something formal on his first day; with a white T-shirts and his favourite jacket - the black one with a behemoth embroidered on the back - he's less likely to be recognised as the Prince. Of course, everybody in Lucis knows about the miserable wheelchair-bound heir to the throne, and he's quite sure that some magazine must have gossiped about him being admitted to the renowned UInsomnia, but fortunately he's stayed out of the spotlight long enough for nobody to identify him straight away. He hopes.

He tosses the butt in a nearby dustbin and heads to the elevators in the hall. He is relieved to see the doors are wide enough for him to comfortably slide in. He glances at the buttons on his right, they're a bit high but still reachable, so he presses the one to go to the nineteenth floor without needing any help. Gods, he hates when people force their help on him, he lived like this for ten years, he learnt how to do everything on his own. But what he hates even more is the expression of pity on their faces, that's why he moved away from the Citadel three years ago. As if all the bows and formality and _your Highness_ didn't make him already uncomfortable enough.

Noctis fixes his eyes to the floor to hide his flushed face as he passes a group of giggling girls. They rightfully guessed who he is given the look on their stupid faces. He tightens his grip enough for his knuckles to turn white, a heavy breath escaping his lips as he finally enters his classroom. He never got used to this, people always talking _about him_ and never _to him_.

He catches some empty seats in the last row at the back of the room; the one on the corner is going to be his, he decides, quickly reaching it. He knows there's always some spots for people like him at the front, but he hates those. So he pushes himself up and shifts to the bench. When the Marilith severed his spine it didn't leave him entirely paralysed, meaning he can still feel and control his legs to a certain degree. But definitely he hasn't enough strength in his lower libs to stand his weight without major support, way more than crutches can provide. Anyway, even if he cannot walk, the little responsiveness he has is sufficient to help him switch places with little effort. So he does it every time he can, leaving his wheelchair for a normal one making him feel less inadequate.

  


**"Ehm, sorry, do you mind if I sit there?"** You timidly ask a black haired guy, pointing at the vacant seat next to him; he is sitting in the corner all by himself, looking slightly bored as he scrols through his smartphone. He is most likely one not to bother you during the lecture. You had quite a hectic morning, getting lost for nearly half an hour in the crowded streets of the rush hour. May your lack of sense of direction be damned, as if finding the UInsomnia building itself hadn't been challenging enough, you spent a good fifteen minutes running around the floors to locate your classroom. But goodness, that smile of triumph on your lips was glorious when your wristwatch acknowledged you that you had managed to reach your classroom with five minutes to spare.

"Yeah. Wait I mean of course you can sit." He mumbles, barely looking at you as he heavily lifts himself, leaning on the desk the whole time with most of his weight clearly held up by his arms. His weird position gives you just enough space to clumsily stumble to your place. "Thank you." You manage to mutter when you finally sit, busying yourself with retrieving stuff from your backpack until the flush has faded from your cheeks. Eventually you'll have to face him, you think as you bury your face in your Probability Theory textbook, but now is not that moment. Anyway, you can swear his face is still a light shade of red too when you peek at him just after the lesson started.

  


**Noctis scolds himself for failing** to answer you properly. Why has he always to be so awkward, dammit. Obviously, to his excuse, he's not used to people talking to him, let alone sitting next to him. There was a time when he thought people always kept their distance from him because of some odd non-written royal protocol, he remembers. But that was many years ago, now he's quite sure others outright avoid him. Not that he can really blame them though, he's quite a failure for a future King. Actually he's not ever sure he will ever be able to become a King at all, his magical powers crippled as much as his body, he can barely manage to summon a sword from his Armiger on a lucky day.

  


**Your first lesson turns out** to be rather uninteresting and uneventful, the teacher covering introductory stuff you already studied in detail during high school. So you find yourself yawning for the millionth time, completing yet another formula before Professor Digitius can finish writing it on the whiteboard. Of course you know how to calculate a k-permutation of n.

"You should have picked the advanced course." The black haired boy sneers suddenly, looking at the neatly solved exercises scribbled in your notebook.

"Looks like you should have picked that one too." You reply, glancing at his equally precise solutions, curiously interrupted here and there by doodles of monsters. You would usually get pissed if someone distracted you from the lesson, but today's topics are boring enough for you to enjoy a little chat. You already mastered it all well enough not to need further explanation, after all.

"Nope, I wouldn't get as much free time then." He maliciously explains, his words implying he consciously signed up for something too easy for him. Either had he done it because he is lazy or because he is insecure, he surely has a point, you think, staring at him in amusement. He looks a bit too cute to be smart, but what he wrote down on his notebook proves otherwise.

"Anyway, I'm [Y/N]." You introduce yourself, trying your best not to sound a creep. 

"I'm Noctis, nice to meet you." He smiles shyly, clumsily fidgeting at the messy hair on the back of his head. He keeps his eyes fixed on you until you finally give in, burying yourself in clearing up a new Applied Combinatorics problem. You are not the most sociable person around, but this guy is challenging all social conventions. Or maybe you accidentally smudged your face with ink, the horrid thought strikes you. Gods not that again.

Then something catches your attention. "Is that Ray Jack?" You ask, pointing at his scribbles. You are amazed with yourself that you are actively pursuing a conversations with this boy, but the lesson is tedious.

"Uhm yeah, I know it's bad." He nervously tries to discharge the subject, pushing his notebook a bit further from you. 

"No, I think it's cute." You lean forward to peek blatantly at his doodles again, not caring one bit about his bashfulness.

"Hey, that's rude." Noctis snaps, face flushed to a deep shade of pink as he hastily shuts his notebook. "Anyway, you play King's Knight?" He adds, probably intrigued that you managed to recognise the videogame character from the botched drawing he did.

"Yup. I usually play as Nemo. And you play as Ray Jack I guess." You giggle, as if there could have been another reason for him to draw Ray Jack other that he was his favourite. Anyway, if this guy Noctis proved to be at least a fraction of the nerd you were, King's Knight could easily provide days worth of conversation. 

"You got it. Knights rule, right? Swords and all.". He declares, confirming both of your suspects that he played as Ray Jack - almost a twin character to the one you played, so kudos to him - and that he was a nerd. You never enjoyed a boring class this much in your whole life.

  


**Exchanging a few words with you** was nice, despite you being a little weird with your manners and that pretty accent of yours. But who was Noctis to judge when he himself had a lot of trouble socialising with people? Something he immediately liked of you is that, unlike all those students stiff in their neck ties and miniskirts, you were wearing casual clothes. Just like himself. He was rather intrigued by your peculiar style, skinny jeans and a button up shirt with a zip up hoodie on top, all of it rigorously solid black. He wondered if Ignis would have approved something of the sort; probably not.

Other than the trivial fashion details, he appreciated how you treated him as if he was normal. Maybe you just didn't know who he was, thanks the gods it's not that he is going around with a label saying he is the Crown Prince after all. But that leads to troubles: should he tell you who he is? He quickly discharges the thought, there is no need for you to know now given that he is probably never going to see you again. He is aware how he looks a bit aloof, his detached attitude pushing people away. But it's not that easy to open up to people when for your whole life they tried to befriend you only for your title, not being concerned about your personality at all. Would you even be interested in knowing Noct? He's probably over thinking it, you are going to run away after you see he's in a wheelchair anyway, that thing always scares people off.

The lesson ended, so he eventually reaches for the folded wheelchair abandoned behind the seats, opening it with one hand and swallowing hard as he lifts himself up with the aid of the desk. He has to sluggishly limp a half step before finally dropping on the chair, letting out a heavy breath. Physically the task is a breeze, but emotionally, even after all these years, it is still hard. He wishes he hadn't glimpsed at the look in your eyes when you aimlessly stared at him, making his face redden. He swallows hard again, eyes fixed on the floor. This shouldn't feel humiliating.

  


**Didn't your mother teach you** that you shouldn't stare? Doubtless she did, but it is easier said than done when you failed to notice the wheelchair forgotten in the back of the room in the first place. If you had noticed it, it would have occurred to you that it was likely to belong to Noctis. Because you did see the brace on his knee and the effort he had to make to allow you to reach your seat. Unfortunately what is done is done, so now you have to find a way to fix things up. Not even considering the option of running away - you get that you're a little messed up, but you're not that shitty of a person - you force a smile on your lips. "Uhm, I think I'll grab a coffee now, you want some too?" You clumsily ask, biting on your lip when you look him in the eyes. There's embarrassment in them, but not the slightest hint of anger.

"Yeah, sure" He assents, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel so relieved that he doesn't hate you.

"Do you know where the vending machine is?" You ask, hiding your nervousness the best you can by laughing it off. "It took me fifteen minutes to find the class this morning."

"Yep, follow me." Noctis assures, a smirk peeking on his lips as he easily steers his wheelchair out of the classroom. "So, what course are you attending next?" He asks, leading the way down the hallway. You are glad he's keeping the conversation going.

"Lucian History. Rather boring, right?" You chuckle, surprised that he investigates further.

"Seriously? History is indeed boring. Anyway this must be your lucky day since I picked that one too." He grins, the cheeky tone in his voice betrays how he is clearly pleased to have a companion to chat with instead of taking notes.

"Why did you choose it if it's boring then?" You tease him, entertained by the serious expression appearing on his face as he ponders what to answer. Also he's going to be disappointed because you really need to study for this course, but he doesn't need to know yet.

"See, there's some stuff I am supposed to know. What about you?"

His answer doesn't make much sense but you don't bother questioning further; it's not important. "The same as you, pretty much." You explain. "I just moved from Altissia so I'd better learn something about Lucis, right?"

He doesn't ask further, no doubt he recognised your origins from your accent. And your name. Anyway there is no queue, so you promptly insert 250 Gil into the machine. "What are you getting?"

"I can buy it myself, you know." He complains slightly embarrassed, reaching for the leather wallet in his bag. It's clearly high-end Justice Monsters Five merchandise. You know because you almost got one yourself, going for the King's Knight one instead at the last moment. This guy has a nice taste.

"Yeah, but this way I have an excuse to see you again tomorrow." You point out slyly.

"I'll have a can of Ebony then, thanks." He cheerily grins back, satisfied with your explanation. "So, [Y/N] are you really sure you want to see me again?"

"Why shouldn't I?" You laugh off at his clumsy joke. Because there can't be a reason for you not wanting to see him again, right? "Anyway, is what you got any good? All of this stuff is new to me."

"Ebony? Ignis says it's hands down the best." He chuckles, taking a sip from his can.

"Who's Ignis?" 

Noctis almost chokes on his coffee. Seeing how he frowns, you regret having asked. How can something that simple require him such an effort? In the end he figures out something; it actually took him a lot but you fake you didn't notice. "He's- he's like an older brother to me, helping me out with stuff."

You shrug, finally tasting your drink. Whoever this Ignis is he has a crappy taste for coffee, Ebony not being even vaguely comparable to Altissian espresso.


	2. Lucian History Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History class makes Noctis remember a dark period of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** there's mentions of Noctis dealing with depression, self-harm and suicide attempt in the second half of this chapter, but don't worry, it happened in the past and he's kind of okay at the time this fic is set. Plot wise you only need to read the first half (safe) and the e-mail at the end (also safe and easily recognizable if you keep my style).

**"The Cosmogony is the oldest** extant chronicle in Eos, narrating events happened roughly two millenia ago. Although many of the elements depicted easily fade into myth, part of occurrences might be considered for their historical value." Explains Professor Tacitus, his monotonous voice delivering the slightest hint of enthusiasm as he recites some passages from the book.

_"There once lived a man, born to a mortal but blessed with powers divine. Conjuring a collection of glaives he dispelled the darkness plaguing our star. As a reward for his efforts, the god granted him a holy Stone—the Crystal, which he was to guard at all costs, for it would one day choose a King to see us through the coming disaster and lead us to salvation."_

You had never read the Cosmogony before, your family not being exactly the most religious one. Nonetheless you are finding the topic of looking for the reality legends are built upon somewhat intriguing, your skeptical nature stepping aside for a moment. On the other hand Noctis looks rather uninvolved by the topic, his expression somewhere between bored and outright annoyed. You wonder what he could be thinking about, lost in his thoughts as he looks. He surely is an unusual person with that detached aura he gives while he sits alone, so different from the cute shyness of him interacting.

"If we start to analyse this paragraph we find at least two relevant details. First is the mention of the Crystal, which as a matter of fact exists and is guarded inside the Citadel. It is unsure whether it was truly gifted by the gods, however it is interesting that human kind went in its possessions two-thousands years ago. The second important detail is the reference to the Chosen King; as some of you may know, in year M.E. 741 the current heir to throne was indeed proclaimed to be the Chosen One. But we might examine that in the latter part of the course in which we will cover events of Contemporary Lucian History."

You hear Noctis snort, mumbling _bullshit_ under his breath. At first you were worried he would distract you from the lesson, but for the last hour the boy never uttered a single word, except for the occasional grunt. Is History that tiresome for him? You really hope so, otherwise it would mean he just doesn't want to talk to you any more and that would suck. There's so much King's Knight stuff still to talk about. _Shit_. Maybe Noctis isn't that big of a nerd and chatting with you somewhat annoyed him. What other topics do people have? Maybe you should ask him some personal questions - or maybe not. That would be uncomfortable. For how much you want to get closer you and Noctis are complete strangers and you have no right to peek into his intimacy. This kind of things requires time, even more so when you are a reserved person who doesn't feel like rushing at all. You pout for a moment; given how the both of you are an introverted mess you are afraid it would be likely for Eos to end way before you even get around telling him your full name.

"Another valuable episode is the following." Professor Tacitus continues, scrolling through the pages of his well-worn copy of the Cosmogony, the cover almost completely faded due to years of thorough study. But you are not listening any more, your stomach a bit tight with tension. Noctis looks rather pissed right now, his pretty face staring at the teacher in a frown, his notebook still immaculate. You try to relax, it's not because of you, it's because of the lecture you repeat to yourself. Also it's not big deal if he doesn't want to be your friend, there's plenty of other people, right?

_"Before falling into eternal slumber, the Six bequeathed unto man one last treasure; a ring. Yet who among us was fit to possess this gift of the gods? After some time, the ring was transferred to the hands of a man blessed with powers divine, ultimately developing the mark identifying one fit to rule."_

You glimpse at Noctis's unimpressed face once again, insecurity cluttering your mind. What if he's keeping his distance from you because you are from Altissia? That's rather unlikely since your accent made your origins quite obvious right from the beginning, and he doesn't seem someone who would care either. But maybe you misjudged him, you know nothing about him after all. Except for his fondness for King's Knight, that one detail good enough for you to decide he would make a good friend. You try to focus again on the lesson but it's hard, you are alone in Insomnia and you really wish you had someone to spend some time with. You finally decide it's all in your mind, Noctis is not acting weird because of you but it's just the tedious lesson bothering him.

"Hence we have a mention of the Ring of the Lucii and the Founder King, Somnus, whose descendants would rule the Kingdom of Lucis up to this day. Again, it is uncertain whether the Ring was truly gifted by the gods, although it is undoubtable how it empowers the monarch, serving him as a means to channel the Crystal's magic."

The lesson just ended, Professor Tacitus left the obscure passage of 15:2 Nadir to read for homework and Noctis seems to have relaxed a bit. You breathe out heavily, it's your occasion to find out what's wrong - or screw up.

"Are you okay?" You ask, feeling stupid for how useless of a question that is. Your hands are shaking stubbornly, urging you to grip on your copy of the Cosmogony to hide the agitation.

"Yeah, sorry." Noctis replies, rubbing at the back of his neck while clumsily trying to look away. He looks embarrassed but that is understandable since you just asked him the worst question possible. What are you supposed to say to a stranger asking that?

"What are you sorry for?" You giggle. _Shit_ that was meant to be a joke but it didn't come out right, so you soon find yourself biting on your lip in worry, hands still holding on the Cosmogony as if your life depended on it.

"I don't know. I'm a bit tired I guess." He explains, eyes fixed on the floor. At least he didn't sound pissed you think, still restlessly torturing your lip, your hands clutched so tight around the poor book that your knuckles are turning white. You start over thinking about his words, there was sadness in them. Why is he sad? Was the lesson really that bad?

"Was the lesson that boring?" You continue, forcing a smirk on your now sore lips before you realise that insisting on the subject is not the best of ideas. You glimpse at the cosmogony long agonizing in your hands and finally take the decision to shove it back in your backpack, the not so elegant move giving you the courage to keep the conversation going. "I'm going to get lunch now, you want to come?" You quickly add, maybe you are pushing things a little too far but it's worth the try since it can't go any worse, can it? 

"I'm sorry, I have my - uhm - fencing class this afternoon. Meaning I have to go now. Maybe next time, okay?" Again there's a hint of sadness in Noctis's voice, but that shy smile on his lips when he finished the phrase convinced you that he did mean it. Next time. You watch him stare at you with a sheepish smile until he reaches for a pen to scribble down something on his notebook.

"Here's my e-mail, in case you need it." Noctis says, his cheeks adorned by an adorable pink blush when he hands you a tiny piece of paper. You feel your face burning as you reach for the note, your fingers brushing against his for a second. You have to swallow hard before you finally manage to nod and mutter something supposed to sound something like _see you tomorrow_. 

  


**Noctis regretted taking** the Lucian History class the moment it started, Professor Tacitus almost uncovering his identity when he mentioned the Chosen King crap. If Noctis was the Chosen, then Eos would be doomed. How can a crippled Prince save the world - whatever that means anyway - when he can't even save his ass from being beaten by his Shield? The Gods really screwed up this time.

He turns the water to the hottest temperature, the burning sprays pleasantly scratching his sore body. Gladio totally thrashed him today, but he deserves every single bruise now adorning his delicate frame. He lets out a sigh, he is such a mess, he can't really blame you if you decided to ditch him after today. For once he was lucky enough to find someone nice to chat with in class and he managed to ruin everything, ignoring you when you were so kind to him the whole time. He swears he tried, he tried his best to be friendly and avoid unnecessary awkwardness, but he's just not good enough. He wanted to talk to you during History class but the Professor's words made him so upset, dammit. The Crystal is sucking away his father's life and Tacitus talked about it as if it was some sort of privilege. He'd be glad to give this gift away, thanks. 

Noctis closes his eyes, tilting his head backwards to wash away the sweat drenching his raven hair. The hot shower is calming him a bit but he can feel the cramped sickness of anxiety still weighting in his stomach. He inhales some slow deep breaths to get rid of the pressure crushing him but he can't, his burden is too heavy. And he never asked for any of it, it's unfair.

Noctis's hands start wandering on his own thighs, fingers tracing the raised lines of the scars carved in his pale skin. He did them to himself. He's been clean for roughly six months now but some of the cuts are still red and gross. Eventually they'll fade into a pearl white though, like the older ones did. Not that he cares that much, not when there's that hideous plastic-like slash disfiguring his back, a reminder of that cursed night when the Marilith destroyed his life. Noctis shuts his eyes, burning tears running down his cheeks, his quiet sobs washed away in the soft noise of the pouring water. 

Noctis is unconsciously scratching at his scars now, but they give him no relief since they're healed, so he soon finds himself trying to remember how it felt to hurt himself, the sharp sting of the razor blade on his skin and then the blood and the pain. It was hypnotizing to watch his own blood ooze from the gashes, the scarlet drops dripping down his thighs, staining his alabaster skin. But what he used to crave the most was the the ache spreading from the wounds; he remembers how he could focus on it to get rid of the never ending soreness in his back. 

Chronic pain isn't the only demon haunting him, he is broken inside, the disappointment of a prince he is. Not being able to express his feelings right, it took him a long time to realise how hard it was to feel anything at all; he used to feel so miserable and empty, until he discovered how pain could bring some solace to his aching soul. It was an accident the first time he cut himself, he was fifteen and he was shaving in the shower when the razor slipped from his fingers; in the clumsy attempt of not letting it fall the blade got pressed on his thigh, breaking the skin. Noctis remembers how he stared at the crimson seeping from the scratch, he remembers how it made him feel still alive. It was short after that when he started hurting himself on purpose, maiming his skin in the vain attempt to dull the grief in his heart. Noctis soon became addicted, cutting deeper and deeper as the void inside of him grew. He felt ashamed of his actions, he was weak, a disgrace for the Lucis Caelum line; but being a failure also made him feel like he deserved to suffer, so he cut even deeper, venting his anger on his legs.

Eventually he cut too deep, the razor blade slicing through skin and muscle to expose his bare flesh. Noctis remembers how the gaping gash wouldn't stop bleeding, his panicked attempts to stop it useless as his blood kept leaking until it soaked towels red and dripped on the floor making a mess. He had been sitting in a pool of his own blood on the cold bathroom tiles for what it seemed hours when Ignis finally found him. He will never forget the despair in his advisor's eyes; Six, he will never forget how guilty he felt, a voice inside his head screaming how he was better off dead.

From Ignis discovering his secret Noctis obtained stitches and medication. He got prescribed both painkillers for his chronic back pain and antidepressants. He hated how those messed with him, making him feel sleepy and tired all the time, dizzy and unable to focus no matter how hard he tried. There was a time when he hoped he had never woken up from the coma he fell into after the Marilith attack, he remembers how he would spend most of the day in bed, sleeping to run away from his thoughts. But that, unlike the side effects of his pills, was his own choice. He hated the feeling of being constantly drugged, lost in a solitary shell of apathy and unable to do anything at all, so he eventually stopped taking his medicine and relied on self-harm to cure himself again.

It was harder to hide his problem now since Ignis would check his thighs every week, so Noctis started cutting his arms, the voice inside his head screaming louder and louder. He was a burden and a dishonor for his family and friends, he had to make it all end.

He hardly remembers being rushed to the hospital, his wrists slit open. It was six months ago.

The shower is running cold by now so Noctis takes a towel and shifts to his wheelchair; he feels a little better after crying, it helps him let the pressure out. He quickly dresses himself in his pajamas and heads to the kitchen. It's almost 7.00PM and Ignis could arrive any moment now. He stops by the kitchen counter and reaches for a small container, popping out a pill and swallowing it without any water. He's been taking his medication everyday for the last six months, it's been easier to do so since he decided to avoid taking the painkillers at all unless the pain in his back became unbearable. He still gets sleepy sometimes but it's manageable, he can focus enough to study, play videogames and live his life, a life he could have never imagined six months ago. Surely he is still scared - no, he is terrified - about his future, the thought of taking his responsibility over a Kingdom that deserves a leader far better than him suffocates him. He feels as if he had a noose around his neck, getting tighter as time passes by, waiting to finally choke him the day his father dies. But at least now he found the strength to accept it in a way; he is going to live that future, doing his best not to be too much of a shame to his ancestors.

Some days are worse that others but even after a bad day small things have the power to make everything okay. Noctis smiles shyly as he sees a notification on his phone, he never had someone write to him before, Ignis and Gladio being the only exception.

  


**To:** noctgar@moogle.lu

**From:** lost-hitchhiker@moogle.lu

**Subject:** Coffee

Hey, going home I saw a nice café next to the UNIQLO building near school and I'm having breakfast there tomorrow so I was thinking, would you like to join me?  
I should be there around 8.30AM so let me know (＾ω＾)

See you tomorrow (￣▽￣)ノ

_[Y/N]_

P.S. I'm sorry if I bothered you, you don't have to come if you don't want to.

You gave him a good reason to wake up early tomorrow morning.


	3. Altissian Espresso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and you hang out for breakfast before class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** nothing bad happens in this chapter!  
>  Thanks to @Hope on the FFXV Writers Discord who beta-ed this chapter and gave me some precious advice <3
> 
> I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I can assure you all I am not giving up this fic. The plot is all planned and hopefuly I'll be able to update every two weeks in the near future.

**Noctis takes another drag** from his cigarette, savouring the feeling of his head being pleasantly light. Ignis insisted on waiting with him until your arrival but Noctis stubbornly refused, terrified that you would grasp that something is wrong with him. _Wrong_. Yeah, because being the Crown Prince of fucking Lucis feels wrong and unfair. It had brought him only pain and sadness.

Actually Noctis had needed to discuss a little with his advisor to be allowed to go out with you. Ignis kept repeating that it wasn't safe and that he should at least have you checked out by security before. Such bullshit, Noctis saw you in class anyway so how was that any different? He knows he isn't an expert at wandering around Insomnia, but having breakfast didn't involve any of that since Ignis would just drop him in front of the place. Which is also literally a couple hundred feet away from UInsomnia's campus.

Noctis hates being treated like a child, as if he couldn't take care of himself at all. He got so angry during their argument he wanted to scream at Ignis. It got to the point that he almost confessed to Ignis how he regularly sneaks out of his apartment at night to buy booze and cigarettes at the convenience store nearby. He's glad he shut up just in time or he probably wouldn't be waiting for you in front of _Gondola café_ now.

Noctis nervously checks his phone. It's 8.35 and you still haven't shown up. He swallows hard, anxiety building up as he taps on the screen begging for a notification that isn't coming. Unsure whether he should send you a message he starts typing, then he deletes everything, shoving his phone back inside his pocket and replacing it with his packet of Coeurl Blue. He fidgets with the cigarette between his fingers for a few moments before bringing it to his slightly chapped lips to light it up. Noctis closes his eyes as smoke fills his lungs, a sickly dizziness spreading through his body. He knows he shouldn't be smoking this much but it feels so good when nicotine helps him to feel nothing at all. And now he needs it.

He sighs, 8.40 and there's no trace of you yet. He unlocks his phone's screen with a shaky hand before quickly locking it again to put it away. How could have he been so naive to believe you would actually want to see him again? He should be used of people taking advantage of him, he should have learnt not to care. But damn if it doesn't still hurt.

8.45 and Noctis starts wondering why he's still waiting, when deep inside his heart he knows you are not coming. He bites on his already sore lip, taking a deep breath to find the courage to stay a bit longer. As long as he keeps waiting he can pretend everything is okay and you didn't make a fool of him. People can be late sometimes, right?

8.50 and the Prince can't keep calm anymore, steering his wheelchair back and forth seeking for relief. _Fuck_ , he should have known this was going to happen, the daemon of self loathing growing stronger inside of him. He's not good enough and he's never going to be. He's going to feel bad the whole day if you don't come, and the thought of having to keep it hidden from Ignis makes him sick. But no matter what his retainer must not discover this or he'll have to face a pretty nasty lecture.

"Noctis!" A distressed voice shakes the Prince out of his disheartening thoughts, making him lift his sad eyes to meet a sweaty smiling face. Oh, you didn't ditch him after all.

"I'm so sorry," You pant in apology. Your back is slightly hunched as you rest, gasping for air. "I got lost and I -" You stop to swallow hard before taking a couple of deep breaths. "I know I am late - please forgive me."

Noctis smiles shyly at you, unable to speak for a moment. "It's okay, of course I forgive you." He mumbles, clumsily rubbing at the back of his neck to distract himself from the bright blush blossoming on his cheeks. He isn't always one to give second chances, but you look like you ran all the way to the coffee shop, making it obvious that you truly cared about seeing him.

"Thank you. You never replied to my text so I was afraid you got pissed and left."

"Wait, you wrote to me?" Noctis asks in surprise, swiftly checking his phone for a notification. Nothing.

"Shit. I didn't send it." You pant, staring in horror at the message draft on your phone. "I'm such a mess. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, it happens." The Prince reassures you, just happy that you showed up at all. "Let's get inside so you can rest. You look like need to restore your stamina."

  


**The café is small** and definitely looks more cosy than classy, with small brass tables messily packed around the room and a variety of mismatched cushy chairs to choose from. A warm sweet scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries lingers in the air and soft piano music is playing in the background, making the overall vibe even more intimate. It feels like being in Altissia, you think, nestling in a stuffed chair by a partially hidden table at the furthest corner from the entrance. Noctis just shifts himself from his wheelchair to a snug couch covered in an obnoxious floral print fabric, and you can't help but wonder why he did it when staying on his wheelchair would be more practical. Probably the all those pillows look too comfy for him to pass, you decide.

"So what are you getting? I figured you could help me choose." Noctis asks after having thoroughly analysed the menu in absolute quiet for a good couple of minutes. You can't blame him, since Altissian delicacies are really to die for. To be honest you have a little trouble choosing yourself. 

"Kupoberry Cheesecake and a coffee. I warn you though, if you try espresso, going back do drinking Ebony won't be easy." you chuckle, pleasantly amused by the smirk appearing on Noctis's lips. He looks as if accepting challenges is his favourite activity in life. 

"I have to try it then," he says cheerfully, staring at the waitress to catch her attention. _Geez_ , this guy is even worse than you at social stuff, but you don't feel like loudly calling the attendant either so you just let him do it his way. Surprisingly his method works quite well, the waitress steadily walking towards your table.

"Good morning, do you need any help choosing?" she asks, softly smiling at the two of you. Her accent is slight but it's enough to convince you that this place offers authentic Altissian stuff.

"No we're good." Noctis hesitates, peeking in your direction as if he needs your assent. You nod at him and to your surprise, Noctis places the order for the both of you. He lowers his eyes when he speaks, but his voice doesn't stutter anymore. Maybe he's not as dramatically shy as you first thought.

The waitress doesn't take long to deliver your orders, placing on the table a carved wooden tray holding two small cups and two deliciously looking slices of creamy cheesecake topped with Kupoberry Sauce and some juicy Ulwaat berries. Noctis doesn't wait a second before digging into his cake, the velvety texture melting under the pressure of his fork. His eyes widen in delight as he tastes it, making you feel gratified that he likes what you recommended. There's a bit of sauce on his lip and he looks so cute that you are unsure whether you should warn him right away or enjoy the sight a little longer. You almost pout when he licks away the dressing, trying your hardest to hide your disappointment behind the fact that your coffee is too hot to drink.

"You want to drink your espresso when it's hot." You explain, finally tasting yours without adding any sugar. Noctis bravely tries to do the same but he almost chokes on his first sip, making it hard for you not to laugh.

"Eugh it's bitter," he complains, making a face before adding three generous spoonfuls of sugar.

"You were right, it's better than Ebony." Noctis casually states after tasting his now overly sweetened espresso. You force yourself not to giggle at his utter cuteness once again and assault your slice of cake. "How is the cheesecake?" he asks, eyes fixed on the jam-coated piece waiting on your fork.

"Good," you mumble, swallowing the delightful cream.

"Are you sure? I can help you finish it if you don't like it." Noctis grins, mockingly making a gesture as to grab your plate. 

"You don't look like you have enough space in your stomach for it," you tease him, as you playfully mimic the gesture of slapping his hand.

"You sound like Gladio. Geez, I'm not that skinny." He protests, his delicate features turning into the prettiest little frown. Actually he's right, he's not too thin but he doesn't look like he has much muscle on him either.

"I know, just kidding. Who's Gladio anyway?" You remember he acted weird last time you questioned him about his friends, but he brought up the subject and you can't help being curious.

"He's my..." Noctis stops a few seconds before answering, biting on his lips as he thinks. "...fencing trainer. He tells me I'm a scrawny brat all the time." You can't help laughing at his confession, the image of a grumpy Noctis waving around a blade clear in your head.

"Yeah, you told me you fence, that's cool. Didn't think you were the type though. Even more so given your teacher sounds like he's a dick." You shrug, entertained by his reaction. This guy is really strange if talking about his instructor is so hard for him, you think. Not that you care as long as he's sincere.

"Why shouldn't I be the type?" Noctis questions, a baffled expression on his face. You hope you didn't hurt him with your words, maybe you were a little too blunt. Shit, you should learn to think more before speaking.

"Don't know, you look more like someone who'd just stay at home and play videogames," you explain, giving him a shy smile.

"If it was for me I'd rather just do that. But I kind of _have to_ learn how to handle a sword." Noctis reveals apathetic, as if he was somewhat resigned not to have much of a say in his life.

"I see. But fighting with a sword like Ray Jack is so rad."

  


**"It was so fun** to have breakfast with you, I would love to do it again." You says shyly, your soft cheeks embellished by the slightest hint of pink.

"Yeah, me too," replies Noctis, fidgeting at his unruly hair. He's never had a friend before, not one who wasn't on his payroll at least. Of course he knows both Ignis and Gladio do care for him, but he can't get rid of the disheartening feeling lingering at the back of his head that they wouldn't be sticking around if it wasn't their job. _Damn_ , he wonders why are you hanging out with him in the first place he still wonders. He is a shy mess, he's not good at talking and the only thing he's good at is being a burden to others. Shit, what if you are just pitying him as the sad miserable disabled guy with no friends that he is. Or maybe you do know he's the Prince and you have some insidious reason to get to know him.

Noctis got lost in his depressing thoughts for a bit too long, given the concern evident in your tone as you finally speak.

"Noctis, are you okay?"

It takes him a few seconds to focus and articulate an answer, the crippling thought of having disappointed you feeding his insecurities once more.

"Yeah, just - I wonder, are we friends?" _Fuck_ , he should have kept his mouth shut, all he is capable of is making everything awkward and ruining things when he talks.

"Um, I guess so? Unless you find me annoying and I'm an idiot for not having figured it out sooner." Your voice almost cracks at the end of the sentence, making anxiety painfully sink into Noctis's stomach. He needs to fix this, why does he always have to be so inadequate?

"Hey no, I do want to be your friend! It's just nobody ever wanted to be my friend before," he explains, the weight on his stomach growing heavier as he speaks. _Six_ , he feels like he's about to throw up but he bites on his lip and reaches for your hand, gently holding it. Your skin is cold, but it is also so smooth. He is almost afraid of scratching you with his fingers, callous from years of sword training and steering himself around in his wheelchair. His touch seems to have eased you a bit since a cute sheepish smile is now on your face.

"I can't believe that, why would anyone not want to be your friend?" you ask, returning a soft squeeze to his gloved hand.

"It's because of who I am, I guess." Noctis sighs, the confession taking up all the courage left in him. This isn't how he had planned to disclose his identity. 

"Because you're a rich kid?" You interrupt him bluntly, making his eyes widen and his cheeks burn red. Gods, Gladio wasn't lying all the times he called him a spoiled brat.

"Maybe? Do I look like I'm rich?" he shyly inquires, eyes fixed on his empty coffee cup.

"Well, to go to UInsomnia you either have to be rich or a genius." You point out, burying your hands in your lap.

Fuck, Noctis feels sick. Not only he looks like he's living off daddy, but he also looks dumb. He sinks deeper into his puffy cushion trying to disappear from your sight. Times like this he wishes his magic powers included invisibility.

"I mean, you do are smart but getting a scholarship at UInsomnia is insane." You continue, restlessly shifting in your seat.

"Um okay." Noctis swallows hard, clenching his hands around his thighs to distract himself. It's not as effective as when he used to hurt himself, but he still can't get rid of the habit. He could have never imagined that being recognised as a rich kid would make him feel so bad. Not even being recognised as the prince causes him so much angst.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm a rich kid too if that makes you feel better," you apologise, giving Noctis a faint smile.

"No it's just - I never thought I _looked_ like one," he admits, slowly loosening the grip on his now-aching thighs. Ignis always tells him he's too sloppy in his casual clothes, scolding him for not putting enough effort into his appearance. Which isn't even true since styling his hair takes a good 15 minutes and a considerable amount of hairspray. But how come he looks rich now when just this morning Ignis upturned his nose at the sight of his, quote, _hobo-angler jacket_. They had quarrelled a bit until Noctis gave up wearing it and chose a plain black one instead. He shouldn't have given in to his retainer dammit.

"It's not _you_ really, it's your _clothes_. Your T-shirt is from Roen and that shit is high-end. I mean, the Royal Family wears that a lot. I know because mum actually owns the brand."

Noctis stiffens in his chair as he hears you nonchalantly mention his family. How is it not occurring to you that he is in fact the Crown Prince?

"Listen, we don't have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable okay?" you reassure him. Noctis feels relieved that he doesn't have to deal with the topic now, but he's also aware that putting it off will cause him more trouble in the end. Geez, he's never going to be ready to talk about it.

"Lesson is in ten minutes, we should go." Noctis hints, reaching for his wheelchair. He exhales when he lowers himself on the seat, already missing being _normal_. That's why he sits on regular chairs every chance he gets, because then people don't see him as the _disabled_ guy anymore. It doesn't last long, but the feeling is too good for him to pass up.

"Wait, what are you doing." Noctis complains as he sees you reach for your pocket. "It's my turn to pay."

"Nope, you are my guest and I also arrived late so I have to make up for it." You state, grinning while you block his way.

"You don't have to, really," he insists, confused by your sudden behaviour. But the mischievous look on your face makes him understand your reasons. "[Y/N], I don't need to be in debt to want to hang out again, you know."

"So you can see yourself it's no trouble if you pay next time," you giggle, finally paying for breakfast.

"Okay, when?"

"It's up to you to invite me now, Noctis."


	4. Late For Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis finally decides to invite you to his place, but thing don't go as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** : nothing bad happens in this chapter!

**The alarm has been** beeping for a solid five minutes when Noctis finally finds the strength to turn it off and open his eyes. It's 7.30AM and it's far too early for him to be awake, but he somehow brings himself to rub his sleepy face and sluggishly sit up. He's seeing you in an hour, meaning he has to get ready. During the last month it has become a habit for the two of you to meet for breakfast at _Gondola café_ before class and the prospect of spending some time together is enough for Noctis to get up without needing Ignis to yell at him. So he slowly drags himself to the edge of the bed, carefully letting his legs slip off the mattress until his feet press against the cold polished floor.

He shivers at the sensation. It's so ironical how the nerves in his legs function well enough to allow him to _feel_ things, but not well enough for him to control their movement. When he made it out alive from the daemon attack when he was eight people said it was a miracle, but he knows it wasn't. He survived only because his father restlessly cast heal spells on him. Spells that weren't strong enough to repair all the damage, leaving him with major scarring on his back and only partially functioning lower limbs. Memories of the incident are blurred in his brain; he only remembers a sharp pain and a pool of blood, his own and his nanny's. After that it all became dark and the next memory is his father on his bedside reading him stories. Something he still remembers clearly however is the day he was told he could never walk again. Just like sometimes he still gets awful nightmares about the night of the incident, that one memory makes him shake to the bone.

It was Ignis who actually told him. King Regis hadn't shown up in a while and Noctis complained about it to his ten years old advisor. He asked him when his dad would play with the ball with him again and the poor boy, who couldn't actually bring himself to lie at him, spilled the truth. It would never happen again. Noctis remembers not crying when he was told; he apathetically shrugged and said that he was tired and wanted to sleep. What the Marilith didn't break, that day did.

A few months later he accidentally overheard a conversation between his father and Drautos. He clearly remembers how his dad sounded regretful and torn by anguish; he never heard that tone ever again. He said something about the military aggression of Tenebrae, which cost the life of Queen Sylva. Apparently the Oracle's healing powers were strong enough that she could have guaranteed Noctis a full recovery. But the Prince's fate was doomed so she died by Glauca's hand a month before he got injured. King Regis could have sent the Kingsglaive to Tenebrae to prevent the invasion but he didn't, afraid to leave Lucian borders exposed. Again, at that time Noctis couldn't bring himself to react to what he heard; he just slept as much as he could not to think about it. It was only years later that he started over-thinking about the matter, letting himself get consumed by the thought of how his life would have turned out to be if he could still walk. 

Noctis takes a deep breath before reaching out to his wheelchair and sighs as he steers himself towards the bathroom, a bit upset that he can't have a bedside carpet anymore because the wheels would get caught on it. He knows it's a stupid little thing to complain about, but having to face the icy marble every morning affects his already precarious mood.

After he enters the bathroom he messily tosses his Assassin's Creed pajamas to the floor tiles and enters the shower, gripping on the handles attached to the wall to shift to the little seat. Then he lazily starts scrubbing his body and hair under the hot water sprays with some sweet earthy smelling soap, enjoying the warmth for a few minutes. He doesn't feel like leaving his steamy heaven, but eventually he grabs a towel and dries himself quickly before putting on a pair of black briefs and socks. It's now time to take care of his silky hair and he's quite meticulous about it: he first blow dries it to give it some volume, then he straightens it with a flat iron and finally he styles the spikes and sets the bangs in place with a generous amount of hair spray. At last before leaving the bathroom he washes his teeth with some spearmint flavoured toothpaste and wears a couple of drops of amber scented cologne matching his body wash.

All the time he spends styling his hair is compensated by how quickly he chooses his clothes, almost picking the first things he finds in his wardrobe. Today alongside his usual casual attire he's going for his limited edition King's Knight T-shirt, the one that came with the collector's edition box-set he got his hands on thanks to Ignis contacting the company. He giggles, that one time it came in handy being Prince. Last thing before leaving he adjusts the brace on his left knee, wears a pair of not-so-useful shoes and swallows his morning pills with some Phoenix Purple canned orange juice.

While Ignis drives him to University Noctis usually takes a nap, but today he watches Insomnia pass by, the streets busy with cars during rush hour. The sight is amazingly pretty he must admit, the kaleidoscope of flashy lights reflecting on the glass skyscrapers and the marvellous glistening of the magic barrier up in the sky taking his breath away despite him being born and raised in the city. He knows Celluna Cascades in Altissia are just as striking, but he can't help smiling at the wonder in your eyes the few times he caught you look up at the sky.

The car stops at yet another traffic light and Noctis worries he's going to run late. Of course he knows you're not going to get mad at him since it's not his fault, but he's pissed that he's getting robbed of some precious time he could spend with you. As of lately he's been craving for your company more and more, and after talking to Ignis he's decided that he is going to invite you to his place the next weekend. He even agreed to help Ignis clean the apartment to be allowed to invite you, but he's sure that this extreme sacrifice of his will be worth it.

_Geez_ , he's so nervous at the thought of asking you to come over and his hands are all sweaty. Even more so since he's also resolute to reveal you his royal origins when you're at his place; his stomach hurts and makes him nauseous as if he had eaten rocks for breakfast. It's kind of shitty of him that after a month he hasn't told you yet that he's royalty, he knows that. At first he couldn't bring himself to do it because he didn't know you well enough, but now he's just terrified of your reaction; he surely knows how painful lies can be. _Shit_ , why does he always has to be like this, avoiding things just to make everything worse. Anxiety is chewing at him but he can't really put it off longer so this weekend he's going to tell you, no matter how many cigarettes he'll need to smoke not to go insane. Dammit if he isn't afraid that you won't look at him the same way after knowing who he is; not everybody in Insomnia is fond of the Lucis Caelum line. What if this all ends up with you not wanting to be his friends anymore? If he had told you sooner at least he wouldn't have got attached. He swallows hard, his throat achingly dry; there's not much he can do to fix things now apart from telling you the truth. In a month he's just lucky you didn't discover it from somebody else. 

  


**During the past month** Noctis got the habit of smoking one last cigarette right in front of _Gondola café_ before the lesson starts. Today the two of you are terribly late since breakfast took a bit longer than usual, but despite Noctis telling you to hurry to class you decide to stay with him. Your Statistics class began 15 minutes ago anyway so showing up even later isn't going to change things and you know enough on the subject to afford skipping the introduction. You don't smoke yourself, but you kind of enjoy watching Noctis when he does it. You like the way he holds the filter between his slender fingers, casually dragging it to his shapely lips to take deep drags. And Gods if he isn't cute when he smirks while he breaths out the clouds of smoke.

Noctis has almost finished his cigarette when a silver haired man in overly trendy clothes approaches the two of you.

"What a shame if you were skipping class, right, Prince Noctis? Name's Dino, by the way. Pleasure," says the sketchy guy, eyes fixed on Noctis who stares back blankly. You are unsure of what you just heard; you don't like the mocking tone of this dude and the fact that he called Noctis by name is creepy enough to make your stomach churn. 

"The Crown Prince of Lucis, smoking instead of going to school. Surely you didn't think it'd go unnoticed - at least not at the eyes of a reporter?"

_Crown Prince_. Those words light up a bulb at the back of your brain; it would actually make sense if Noctis was the Prince. He's rich, mostly dressed in black Roen clothes and the Ignis guy he sometimes talks about could easily be his butler. Gods, he also said that he fences! At your Lucian History class the professor mentioned how the Lucis Caelum family wields magic weapons. But there must be some kind of misunderstanding because if he really is the Prince why on Eos did he keep it hidden from you? Noctis would tell you something like that; you two have been hanging out together for a full month now, you two are friends.

You look at Noctis; he's visibly pale and his hands are balled tightly into fists. _Shit,_ something is seriously wrong.

"What do you want?" Noctis asks, visibly trying his best to keep his composure. His deep voice does sounds almost impassive, but the way his lip trembles betrays how inside he's not calm at all.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to make sure our future Kings gets the education a ruler needs," the shady reporter smirks. 

"Noct, what's going on?" you hesitantly ask, looking alternatively at your friend and at the reporter.

"N-nothing," Noctis stutters, looking even paler as he grips on his chair for dear life.

"Did I interrupt a date? That would make an even better scoop," Dino laughs, glancing at you unapologetically.

You stare back at him unable to speak, this is all crazy. Your legs are going jelly; as if discovering Noctis's title wasn't shocking enough you are now being blackmailed, this Dino guy even implying that you two are dating. Which is totally not the case, you and Noctis are just friends. Sure, he's cute and he's a nice and fun person to be around once you get to know him, but there's nothing romantic in your relationship.

"Write what you want about me but leave them alone. Please," Noctis's voice is trembling and he can't keep his eyes off the floor. _Shit_. You are so scared, you never had to deal with paparazzi before and you are completely unprepared, unable to bring yourself to react.

"I won't publish anything if you toss that cigarette and go to class, boy," Dino says, turning on his heels and walking away.

You stare at the man until he's out of sight, then look at Noctis. He's visibly shaken and his midnight blue eyes look suspiciously wet under his messy bangs.

"So is it true? You are the Prince?" you ask sadly, just realizing how hurt you feel for him keeping it hidden from you. It's not the truth itself that is hard to stomach, it's that it stings how he didn't trust you enough to tell you who he really is. You're so hurt you can't look at his face, yet you can picture him nod and then bite on his lip the way he does when he has a hard time answering a question.

"I'm sorry I ruined everything," he apologises, his voice almost cracking.

_Fuck_ , his words cut like a knife. He was your friend, your only friend. Or at least you thought so before being acknowledged by a stranger that he lied to you and that you possibly know nothing about him.

"Would have you ever told me?" you ask hesitantly, unsure whether you want to know the answer. This is so painful you can't breathe, but the guilt in Noctis's eyes breaks your heart even more. You can see how he's holding back tears, making the task of holding back yours harder.

"I - I wanted to tell you, I swear," he mumbles. After a month of lies you don't know whether to believe him, afraid to suffer more. 

"Okay," you reply after long moments of silence, "maybe we can fix things. Just, give me some time, okay?"

You don't watch him go away, fighting the urge to cry needing all of your willpower.

  


**You are finally at your seat** in class merely two hours late and Noctis is nowhere to be seen. He never missed a lesson before and his absence feels strange; it hurts. Of course you didn't expect him to sit right next to you as if nothing had happened, but the fact that he is outright skipping class worries you. Probably he just needs to be alone for a while you try to convince yourself, yet the weight on your stomach doesn't agree. Something is wrong. You reach for your phone and type a message, then you delete it, staring at the screen for minutes, the History lesson completely forgotten. You bite your lip and bring yourself to type something neutral: _Are you coming to class?_ Maybe a bit too neutral because after half an hour Noctis hasn't replied when usually it would only take him a couple of minutes. He must be pissed at you, you grimace; you told him you needed some time after all.

The History lesson just ended and your notebook lays immaculate when usually you would have taken at least three pages of tightly scribbled notes. You still haven't heard from Noctis so you try sending him another text: _Noct are you angry at me?_ You take a deep breath, you miss him.

  


**Noctis is scared** ; it hurts so bad and there's so much blood. _Shit_ , he has truly fucked up this time.


	5. A Prince Should Never Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally at home, Noctis gets in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** description of blood and injury, mention of past self-harm, mention of past suicide attempt.
> 
> The first block of text " _Life has never been_ " and the fourth " _If there's one type_ " should be safe to read but they do contain minor mentions to the triggering topics (nothing graphic or descriptive). The third block " _You feel like your heart_ " should be safe apart from a mild description of blood and injury at the end.
> 
> In case you want to skip all or a part of the content I'll leave a brief summary in the end notes where I cover the main plot development.

**Life has never been** kind to Noctis and just as usual misfortune struck him again the very moment things seemed to turn for the better. This time he can only blame himself for what happened though. If only he had had the spirit to tell you about his identity at the right time things would have been different, but he's a coward who always runs away from his problems.

When Dino addressed him by his title he felt as if the whole world crashed on him, shattered in a million pieces. For the first time in his life he had plans for the future, he had something to look forward; for the first time in his life he had a friend. And it's all Noctis's fault if a shady reporter took it away from him. He should have told you the truth about his status earlier, dammit he even had the chance to do it when you recognized him as a rich kid; but he was too scared. He's always too scared, the failure of a Prince he is. He's weak and worthless and he couldn't even bring himself to fight back the journalist. Gladio would be so disappointed at him if he knew; he's only good at being a cheeky brat when it comes to slacking off training or refusing to eat his vegetables, completely unable stand his ground when he actually should. He just stared back at Dino, paralysed, with his throat dry and vocal chords unwilling to move so that all he could say were a few stuttered words. He almost begged out of fear, he's so ashamed of himself.

A soon as he enters his apartment Noctis finally bursts into tears. Tears that had been cluttering his eyelashes to the point that the whole world turned into a blurry mess. But still he couldn't shed them on his way home on the train, clung to his last remnant of dignity as he was. A Prince never cries in public, no matter if he has to bite his trembling lip so hard he can taste blood to refrain himself.

He quickly steers towards the bathroom, trying his best to control his laboured breath. He's weeping quietly and Ignis isn't coming over tonight due to being assigned at the Citadel for a late Council meeting, but he needs to be sure that none of his neighbours can hear him when he cries his eyes out. He already made enough of a fool of himself today and he can take no more. So he turns on the water in the shower to cover the sobs that are now shaking his body. Gods it hurts so much to have lost you by his own hand. He knows you only asked for some time to stomach the issue, but he has a hard time believing it. He can't really blame you if you won't speak to him ever again because who on Eos wants to be friends with a liar? He didn't deserve you in the first place and you'll do much better without him. Dammit, how could he even think your friendship could last? There must be a reason if in his eighteen years of life people only showed interest in him because he is the Prince. The painful truth is that _Noct_ is just not good enough for anyone to stay. Surely he learnt how to protect himself at some point, not letting anyone in so they couldn't make him suffer any more; because in the end loneliness hurts less than being greedily exploited. He should have kept his wall up; his heart is ripped in two now and it's him the one who made it happen. You were the first to ever like him for the dork he is and yet he managed to ruin everything. His breath hitches; deep inside he's sure you would have not cared about his status if he had told you right away.

If there's one single thing Noctis is good at it's bottling up his emotions, burying them deep under a thick shell of impenetrable apathy. This ability allowed him to hide his self-harm habits for literally years so he's fully aware how unhealthy an habit it is to just keep everything inside until it's too much to bear any more. He's aware that at some point he will break down and make a mess.

A hot shower would probably do good to him now helping him relax is nerves, so Noctis begins to take off his clothes starting from his jumper. He stares at the raised scars on his arms; he tries his best to ignore them, but he just can't and soon his fingers graze over them. He closes his eyes; it's kind of soothing to feel the lines on his marred skin. Yet he knows he shouldn't be touching them as they bring back too many memories he wants to forget. Burning tears are streaming down face faster now and the once soft laments are now turning desperate.

He forces his stinging eyes open and watches his pathetic reflection in the mirror. A Prince should never cry. But here is Noctis Lucis Caelum, covered in snot for being unable to take responsibility for his own actions. He gags at what he sees, he's such a miserable crybaby. His father says a Prince should walk tall and never look back. _Fuck_ , he's so tired of being a good-for-nothing, he wishes he could just disappear so he won't bring any more disgrace to his ancestors.

  


**He doesn't know how** he ended up down there but Noctis is now curled up in a ball on the cold bathroom tiles, his body shaken by cries and searing pain. Driven by blind self-hatred he must have punched the mirror, breaking it. He's such an idiot, he's only capable of making things worse and worse.

A part of him is glad that Ignis isn't coming over to see him like this, but he's also unsure whether he can get himself out of this alone. He breathes heavily trying not to panic more, then he tries to move his hand, but it hurts so much, the broken bones and the shards of glass stuck deep into his skin make him feel sick. Still he can't give up so he reaches for his wheelchair and grits his teeth trying to lift himself. _Shit_ his wounded hand is slippery with blood and it refuses to sustain his weight, a jolt of excruciating pain ripping all the way up his arm. Noctis groans as he falls hard on the floor, cradling his throbbing hand to his chest.

He's too tired and humiliated to cry any longer, yet tears aren't even close to stop staining his puffy cheeks. He hopelessly stares at his own blood smeared on the white tiles. He probably damaged some blood vessel; he knows the wound isn't nearly serious enough to be fatal, but he's scared. _Gods_ , there was a time when he did try to take his own life and the image of that is indelible in his head. It happened what it feels like centuries ago and he doesn't wish to die any more, but the scene he sees in front of him looks dreadfully similar. Rationally he knows he won't die now, but the thought haunts him, bringing back the nightmare. He trembles, struggling to breath. He can already picture the headlines on the newspaper reporting his death: _"Crown Prince of Lucis found dead in his bathroom. Mirror is now under arrest for murder and treason."_ No, he doesn't want to end up like that.

Noctis shuts his eyes; not even the pain he's in can help him focus away from the horror inside his mind. Breathe in, breathe out. It's just a panic attack, he's going to pull through all of this.

Finally he hears his phone buzzing in his pocket, a poor distraction from his anguish. He retrieves it with his good hand and shakily unlocks the screen; there's five texts of apology from you. He so wishes he could hear your voice now. He sighs, he eventually will have to call somebody for help. Ignis should be his first choice, but he'd rather skip the lecture that would come with that; he already knows he was irresponsible. No, he won't call Ignis, he's also busy at the Citadel anyway. Gladio is out of question either as he would call him princess and mock him for being so flimsy that all it took to injure him this bad was punching a wall. So Noctis takes a deep breath to swallow his pride and dials your number.

"Noctis are you okay?" you sound so concerned, maybe you truly care for him after all. _Fuck_ , he feels so bad to pull you through all of this.

"N-no," he mutters. Used as he is to bottle everything up sharing his emotions is something new for Noctis, scary and shameful. Is he even doing the right thing opening up with you? He's so scared, but he also needs your help; the help of his only friend.

"I was so worried when you ignored all my messages," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "Are you at home?"

"Yeah, just -" dammit, he can't keep his voice from cracking. He wants to be honest, but it's so hard, he hates showing his weaknesses. "I've done something stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"Got hurt," he mumbles, a thick lump stuck in his throat. He's terrified of what you might think of him after this.

"I'll be right there, just send me your address okay?"

  


**You feel like your heart** is about to burst out of your chest as you run to the nearest train station. It's only a fifteen minutes ride to reach Noctis's apartment, but you have no time to waste. Your instinct was right when you sensed something was wrong, skipping class wasn't something your friend would do. And now he confirmed your suspects, he is at home and he got injured. _Ifrit_ , you're so angry that his stubborn ass didn't call you earlier, just laying on the bathroom floor for who knows how long instead. Yet you can't really be angry at him given how worried you actually are. He said it's nothing too serious, but knowing him he's just trying to reassure you. If that boy couldn't get off the floor on his own you're likely to find him in a really bad shape. When you first met him you thought he could barely do anything on his own, but Noctis is full of resources and actually lives quite an active life. Surely he can't walk, but that doesn't prevent him from living at his own place, going fishing or doing sports. You think highly of him because of that.

Finally on the train you restlessly shift your weight from one foot to the other, not even bothering to find a seat. Your stomach twists painfully as you check you wristwatch; the train needs to hurry.

Guilt makes you feel sick as you stare out of the window; you should have talked to Noctis right away. Him being the Prince isn't a big issue for you, but given his reaction he probably thinks it is. To be honest with yourself you do are a bit hurt that he kept the truth from you, but you can understand he had his reasons so you almost immediately forgave him. Eos be damned, you are not losing your friend because of this, no matter what it takes to fix things.

Eventually the train stops and you dart out of the station, looking for the apartment building Noctis lives in. You quickly make your way through the nice residential area and for the first time in your life you don't get lost, finding the place right away. The security guy at the reception stops you asking who you are, letting you go as soon as he sees the invite from Noctis on your phone.

The ride on the elevator takes forever and you find yourself nervously biting your lip in anguish, your heart aching at the thought of what you might come across. Your stupid brain is making up the worst scenarios when at last you reach the right floor and run to Noctis's door; in his rush he left it open.

"Noct?" you say hesitantly as you enter the apartment, not waiting for his answer as you look for the room he's in.

You freeze when you see him; he's curled on the blood-smeared floor among the sharp mirror pieces. His eyes are red and swollen from the excessive crying and his lips are turned downwards in a pained pout. You stare at him for a few seconds until the numbness that paralyses you eventually fades and you can breathe again.

"Hey," he says in a coarse voice, looking away from you as he struggles to sit up. It breaks your heart to see him like this. Without a second thought you drop to your knees ignoring the sharp mirror pieces digging into your skin and you gently wrap your arms around Noctis. You never hugged him before and his body feels much smaller and fragile under your hands, almost soft. Your touch is gentle and you feel him sink into your embrace, snuggling closer to your chest as the both of you quietly sob. All of this is too much to bear.

Eventually you wipe away your tears, still not breaking contact from your friend and cuddling him a bit more. You brush his soft locks until his breath evens, giving him as much comfort as you can.

"We should get you off the floor," you say, giving Noctis a faint of a smile until he shyly nods. It's easier said than done, but eventually you manage to help Noctis back on his wheelchair. As expected he complains when you forbid him to steer himself out of the bathroom, but in the end he gives up and lets you do the job, reminding you to turn off the water before leaving.

"Where do you keep your first aid kit?" you ask, peeking at his hand in concern. It stopped bleeding, but it looks like it hurts like a bitch, the strained look on Noctis's pale face subtly confirming it.

"Bathroom cabinet."

Unsurprisingly there's a ton of hair products in there, but after a bit of searching you find everything you need and go back to the living room. You sit on the couch in front of Noctis, carefully placing his injured hand on your lap. You admire him for how brave he is, stoically sitting still as you pull the shards out of his flesh with a pair of pliers and only wincing in silence when you extract the ones stuck deeper. The injury looks way worse now, blood leaking again from the gashes. He hisses when the disinfectant stings on his lacerated skin, but he only grabs your wrist to stop you when you reach for the gauze to dress his wounds.

"I don't need that, look," he says, grabbing a vial labelled as potion from the kit and pouring its content over the cuts. A sparking blue-ish mist fills the air and you watch in amazement as his skin stitches back together, barely leaving some pink scarring.

  


**If there's one type** of magic Noctis is well versed at it's curatives. It's a bit ironic that the reason why he's so good at healing wounds is that he used to hurt himself on purpose. He didn't bother patching himself up at first, but when Ignis discovered his problem and started checking him covering his deeds became a necessity. So he mastered the art of concocting potions out of common energy drinks.

"See? Good as new," he smiles, pain faded almost entirely. He wiggles his fingers just to check that the broken bones are fixed properly before moving to the couch next to you. He feels so much better now that you're there at his side; physical pain he could have endured, but the ache in his heart was ripping him apart.

"How did you do that?" you ask, and he can't help but chuckle at the incredulous expression on your face. Magic is hard to explain so he takes your hand between his and makes you feel the tingling sensation of it, grinning as your eyes widen.

"The Royal Family has access to the power of the Crystal," he explains, pausing just a second when he talks about his lineage. "I'm not good at it because of the incident, but I still can do a few tricks."

"Oh, I see," you reply, looking away from him.

What Noctis sees in your eyes is something different from pity, it's sadness; sadness because unlike others you truly care for him. So for the first time in his life he speaks further "When I was eight a demon almost killed me," he breathes out; his voice cracks, but he can't stop now; he needs to share this with you "I never walked again and it crippled my powers as well."

A single tear falls down his cheek; he's so sick of crying. This is the point when people usually commiserate him, saying empty words that make him suffer more, but you are different from them and simply hug him, hiding your face in the rook of his neck and whispering you're sorry. Noctis feels safe in your arms and he can't help holding you closer to his chest, breathing in your scent. _Gods_ , he can't even remember the last time someone cradled and cherished him like this; it was probably ten years ago when his father still bothered visiting him. The sweet embrace doesn't last long, but it's enough to leave a shy smile on Noctis's lips.

There's still one secret he has to tell you, yet it's by far the hardest to approach. He never willingly talked about it, neither to Ignis nor to Gladio. Despite them being his friends they're also his retinue and because of it they have high expectations of him. A future King must be composed and strong, not depressed and insecure.

Noctis takes a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. He's wearing only a T-shirt so he knows that you have seen the scars on his arms. He swallows hard, "There's something else you should know."

He stays silent for a while, eyes fixed on his lap; he wants to tell you but dammit it's hard.

"Noct, when you punched the mirror you did it to hurt yourself?"

Your words hit him like a truck. He doesn't know if he did it to hurt himself on purpose; of course he knew some damage might occur when you slam your fist into glass so hard it breaks, but it isn't the same thing as what he used to do in the past. Is it?

"I don't know," he admits, his lip trembling, "I'm a mess and I understand if you don't want me any more."

Noctis shudders lightly when your gentle fingers graze over his marred skin, lovingly rubbing on the thick scarring on his wrist. He would usually feel deeply ashamed if someone touched him there, but with you it feels different; you're not judging him and he trusts you.

"Noct please don't leave me," you whisper, eyes filled with tears. He feels bad at seeing you cry like this for him, so Noctis does his best reassure you, wiping away the solitary tear staining your cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiles, cuddling you until you're calm enough.

"I don't want you to get hurt again," you mumble.

"Won't happen. They gave me meds and I'm okay now, I promise," Noctis's stomach can't stop churning. He won't make you worry this much ever again; he _has to_ be better for you. 

  


**"It's getting late** , why won't you stay here for the night [Y/N]?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger free summary:** Once at home Noctis burst into tears as he blames himself for what happened: if he had told you about him being the Prince at the right time you would still be his friend. Out of desperation he punches a mirror in the bathroom and falls on the floor; injured and unable to get back on his wheelchair on his own, after many pained thoughts he finally decides to call you for help, so you rush to his apartment and rescue him. You never really got angry at him from hiding the truth from you and you want to fix things as you truly care for Noctis.  
>  In the end you gained Noctis's trust and he doesn't want to hide anything from you ever again, so he tells you about his childhood injury that left him in a wheelchair and how he struggles with mental health.  
> Your friendship with Noctis is deeper and stronger now.


	6. Fan Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovely fan art from the amazing [asyavoxman](http://asyavoxman.tumblr.com/).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for this beautiful drawing. You guys are the best!<3

  



	7. Goodbye, and welcome back

Hello friends, welcome back.  
I want to apologize for the lack of updates. For a long time I kept telling myself I would eventually finish this fiction, but I just won't, I'm sorry.  
I still love this trope, and I still want to write about it, so much that I have some stuff I wrote, but never posted. The reason is, as the story progressed, I realized how I didn't feel comfortable writing an OC anymore. I felt guilty to put my Reader/OC through shit, and that held me back from writing what I wanted. Furthermore, as the slow burn romance was supposed to blossom, I figured how parinig an OC character with a canon character didn't work for me.  
As I said, I still love this work and its trope, so I'll give it new life rewriting it into my OTP: the story will be about Noctis and Prompto. I hope this change won't put off too many of the people who still want to follow this tale.  
The new version is called [Like a chocobo feather](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876225/chapters/42192641), if any of you is interested in reading it.

As Prompto is deeply different from the original reader, some scenes will change, but the plot will follow the same outline I sketched out almost a year ago. Some new topics will be introduced, and I will improve the system of trigger warnings and trigger free summaries I experimented in the original.

I apologize again for letting you down for so many months. Updates should be more frequent now that I'm more comfortable with want I'm doing.  
I hope to hear from you guys, and thank you for your support, it means a lot.

Sh1k4r1


End file.
